(Fictional story about fictional characters)
(A stand alone story)
Since being selected to go into space and travel to the International Space Station, where he could install and work on his design for a zero-gravity elimination system (a space toilet), Howard Wolowitz had agonized about having a cool astronaut nickname. He wanted something with pizzazz, something everyone would immediately recognize as being both cool and masculine...something studly. It seemed like all the really cool nicknames were already taken: like Maverick from Top Gun, or The Rock. He and his friends were sitting around in apartment 4A reading comic books when he brought up the nickname "Flash;" but his friend Leonard had chuckled and asked, "oh, you mean like "flush?"
"Ha, ha," Howard replied, "I get it...like the toilet...real clever." His best friend Raj suggested "Crash," but Howard had pointed out, "I really don't think my fellow astronauts would want to go hurtling through space, in a Russian rocket built by the lowest bidder, with someone named "Crash."
Then Raj had hit on a brainstorm, "how about Rocketman?"
"You mean that catchy, unforgettable song by Elton John...that is not bad...not bad at all," Howard had agreed.
"It would be perfect," Raj beamed, proud of himself for suggesting it.
"It would," Howard admitted, "but you're forgetting one thing: it can't be something I suggest...it has to be a nickname given to me by my fellow astronauts." Howard could never seem to use the word "astronauts" enough times in his conversations; something that had not gone unnoticed by his friends.
"Well maybe we could think of a way to persuade them to suggest it," Raj offered. "I know...you sometimes have those conference calls with them, right...so maybe we could program the song as your ringtone and the next time you talk to them, I could be there and make sure your phone rings."
Howard smiled and admitted, "that's not bad...it just might work." A couple days later, Howard was in his bedroom sitting at his desk and staring at his laptop while waiting for his Skype call from Houston. Raj was sitting on the corner of Howard's bed, munching on an Oreo while making sure his phone was ready. Suddenly Howard's fellow astronaut Michael was on the screen and they exchanged pleasantries before discussing their schedule of events and training. Out of the corner of his eye, Howard saw Raj fiddling with his phone and then his rang out with the familiar sound of "Rocketman."
"Hey, is that Rocketman," asked Michael, smiling.
"Yeah, it's just my ringtone," Howard shyly told him, "I'll shut it off."
"I love that song," Michael admitted.
Just then Howard's mother bellowed up the stairs, "Howard, I'm going to the store...do you want me to pick up Fruit Loops."
Just as loudly, an irritated Howard screamed back, "no thank you...and I'm on the computer with NASA."
"Oh...mister big shot," he could hear her voice trailing off as she left the house.
Chuckling, Michael inquired, "who was that?"
"Oh that's just my Mom...sorry for the interruption," Howard explained.
"Oh that's OK...Fruit Loops," Michael laughed. And just like that, Howard knew he was doomed to be nicknamed Fruit Loops instead of Rocketman. For the next month, every time he had a Skype call with anyone from NASA, he had to endure the despicable nickname. Howard knew he had to do something to get in their good graces or the trip to the Space Station would be unbearable. Finally he hit on an idea: he remembered how Dimitri, and the Russian engineer cosmonaut Ivan, had been fascinated with his little magic tricks.
His idea was for him to go all out and put on a full-fledged magic show for them the next time they were all in Houston. He would reserve a suite, instead of just a room, in the hotel and bring all his equipment...and most importantly: have his fiancée Bernadette dress in a skimpy costume and assist him. He had been around the Russians enough to know they were real suckers for blondes. Even before he consulted Bernadette, he asked his mother if she would sew her a costume and she readily agreed; selecting one of her old bathing suits for the material.
When he asked Bernadette, she was less enthusiastic. "Howie, I'm really not in the mood for your magic...I'm having a difficult time at work with one of the new researchers. He just seems to know which buttons to push to irritate me." The truth was, the new assistant was tall and handsome and Bernadette was finding it difficult to concentrate on her work. She was working on isolating the ribonuclear protein in the rabies virus in hopes of finding a cure, and it was tedious work.
"Come on Bernie," Howard pleaded, "it will be like a vacation...I'll show you all around the NASA complex...and you will look so cute in the assistant's costume."
"You mean you'll give me a tour like you already did for your friend Sheldon," she sarcastically asked, bringing up a sore subject. Howard had taken Sheldon to Houston instead of her once before.
"Come on Bernie...you know I only took him because you were working, and his mother lives near there," he practically begged. In the end, she of course relented and agreed to be his assistant. Howard was indeed a good engineer and he immediately went to work constructing lighter-weight, stripped down props for his tricks...ones that could be more easily transported. The costume rivaled a professionally crafted one and fit Bernadette like a second skin. Howard didn't tell Bernadette, but he thought she looked like a Playboy bunny in her skintight, purple sequinned costume. It was, of course, strapless, fashioned like a bustier, and revealed a vast expanse of cleavage, while being cut extremely high on her outer thighs so that her short legs seemed much longer; especially when combined with four inch heels. He knew the other astronauts were going to flip when they saw her.
Howard worked feverishly to built stripped down props; his pride and joy was a disappearing-box with black cloth sides instead of solid ones. The corners were crafted by telescoping poles and it seemed to work perfectly. The most important piece: the revolving base which pivoted so that the subject was turned 180 degrees and concealed from the audience, was the most bulky, but when he was done everything fit in one big trunk. Howard was nothing if not a showman, and he planned to shape his performance for his audience: instead of pulling a rabbit out of his hat, he intended to produce a bottle of vodka. Not Russian vodka either. Howard had been around the cosmonauts enough to have heard then say more than once that they could get Russian vodka anytime, so he planned on featuring Absolut vodka from Sweden.
Everything was going as planned: Howard had shipped off the trunk ahead of time so that it would be at the hotel when they arrived and he and Bernadette were already packed. Unfortunately even the best laid plans can go wrong: the day before their plane left for Houston, Bernadette was distracted by her handsome lab assistant and accidentally dropped a vial of rabies virus and her lab was quarantined. She would be confined there for at least three days, ruining his plan. Howard had rushed to the university lab where Bernadette had assured him, talking through a speaker, "don't worry Howie...it's just a precaution. If we were infected, we would already be bleeding from our eyes. I'm sorry about the trip."
"Bernie all that matters is that you're OK. You know I'll have to make the trip without you for my training exercise...I'll just forget about the magic show. Without my beautiful assistant it just wouldn't be the same."
Knowing how much it meant to him to lose the dreaded nickname, Bernadette encouraged him to go on with the show, "maybe you could find someone to replace me...I know...how about Penny." Instantly, visions of the gorgeous Penny dressed in the skimpy costume flashed through Howard's mind, but he tried not to let it show: "no...she's not crazy about me...she would never do it."
"I have my phone in here...I'll call her and explain the situation. She's my friend and I'll bet she'll do it," Bernadette told him.
"Thank you...you are the best fiancé ever," Howard gratefully said, "I wish I could kiss you right now." Later that afternoon, the four scientists (well, technically Howard was an Engineer) were all gathered in 4A for their usual meal together. That night was Giacomo's pizza with sausage, mushrooms and light olives.
Howard had just finished telling his friends about Bernadette's predicament and Leonard consoled him, "that's really sad, Howard...what are you going to do about your magic act."
"Yeah," Raj added, "without that I think you're doomed with the Fruit Loops nickname," and he giggled when he said it.